


Red String

by donotspeaktomeofdragonfire



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Alternate Universe - Aliens, Alternate Universe - Business, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Musician, Lomadia - Freeform, M/M, Sjips - Freeform, Soulmates, Spacemen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 01:01:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6064954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donotspeaktomeofdragonfire/pseuds/donotspeaktomeofdragonfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some people are connected by more than just destiny. When the universe pairs two (or more) souls together, that bond stays with them through more than one lifetime.<br/>An exploration of several lifetimes and universes Sips and Sjin go through in their souls' quests.</p>
<p>(Okay, okay, it's a bunch of drabbles of different Sjips AUs. You caught me.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter, the Business AU, can be read as a standalone, as can all of these, I suppose, but the Business AU was originally going to be the start of a much larger work along just that plot, and heck, may become that in the future.

    There exists an old tale in which a red string is tied to the ankle of every person on Earth, leading them to the person or persons who will make the most significant impact on their life -- or their soul mate.

    Now, Sips was the last person to talk to about any sort of “fate” or “destiny” hooey, he was a well-known CEO of a thriving company, and his mind was more caught up in stocks and bonds and shares than romantic tat. And what was more, if you tried to talk to him about anything this morning, it was doubtful that you would have gotten more than a frustrated glance as he rushed past you into the elevator, clutching at his mug of coffee. Traffic was slow, and it did not set a good example to the company to be late for a very important meeting. He straightened his tie as he walked through the door and sat down at the long table, across from Xephos and Honeydew, angling himself to see the front of the room, where a projector and smartboard were set up and ready to display the presentations.

    “All right, now,” Xephos announced. “Since we’re all here, it seems, we’re going to start bringing in the options, the students, to make their pitches for new products and potential projects that could benefit both companies. All companies involved. Something like that.” He breathed out, in something that could have been construed as a chuckle. “Now, can we please remember to be polite? Honestly, I know who I’m talking to, and let’s not outright tell them if it’s shit, okay?”

    The newfound alliance between SipsCo and Honeydew, Inc. had a few customers whining about monopolies and rampant capitalism, and so they had all put their heads together and decided on a new program. They’d bring in students from around the world to pitch their ideas, make suggestions, and even if the company didn’t agree on any of the options brought to the table, they would still expand their internship programs. The public loved seeing big companies take an interest in younger generations, and the publicity for the campaign had skyrocketed.

    The first hour and a half was excruciatingly painful and Sips went through three, maybe four cups of coffee. All that caffeine was sure to be bad for him, but he’d just eat a salad or something at lunch to balance it out. That was how things worked, right? Xephos and Honeydew, the co-CEOs and founders of Honeydew, Inc., stuck to tea, the British bastards. Glancing over to them after dismissing yet another squeaky-voiced kid with a rented suit and hopes of getting their faces stuck on  _ Time _ , he noticed that Honeydew was practically shaking himself awake, while Xephos was perched on the edge of his seat, legs crossed primly, fingers white-knuckled around the cup handle.

    “Starting to regret it already, huh?” he joked, nodding at the two. Xephos gave him a small laugh, and called for the next pitch, stifling a yawn. The door pushed open and a tall, thin (well, Xephos would have called him “bony”)  young man with a well-groomed brunet moustache and goatee strode in with a large portfolio under his arm. Taking his place at the front of the room, he grinned at them and bit his lip, tugging at it with his teeth, and Sips suddenly felt as nervous as if he were the one giving the presentation. This one was hardly any different than the others, besides his startlingly orange tie, so why did he suddenly feel quite nauseous? The coffee and lack of breakfast, to be sure.

    “Ahem. Hello, my name is Sjin Sykskar, and have I got an idea for you.”

    Sips honestly barely paid attention to the content of the pitch. The man’s voice was high and lilting, and although he worked with quite a lot of Brits in business, Xephos and Honeydew included, he couldn’t help but dwell on how this Brit pronounced each vowel, clipped some words and completely changed others. Sips’ staring must have been distracting, because as Sjin’s eyes passed between the members of the group there, he dwelled on Sips a little longer than the others, faltering only slightly. But the way he spoke was with such vibrancy and passion- while the other students had been nervous, terrified, and intimidated by the weight of the project, with the way Sjin spoke, it was impossible to not get swept up along for the ride.

    Sjin finished, and Sips almost didn’t notice. He was only startled out of staring when Xephos spoke up.

    “All right, thank you, that was great. Sips, ah,” he turned to the CEO, who hurriedly sipped more coffee in an attempt to hide whatever colour his face was turning, “any questions?”

    “Oh, yeah, no, flavoured -- scented dirt, awesome. I mean, it’s gotta be said, no one -- no one likes the smell of manure. You’ve just got all this gross crap everywhere, not good for business.” He nodded as if he had any idea what he was saying and wasn’t simply distracted by Sjin’s pleasant, almost feminine, figure. “I think it’s gonna go big. I mean, why can’t we just --” He gestured to Xephos and Honeydew. “Why can’t we just hire the guy right now, get this over with?”

    Xephos laughed and smiled tightly, attempting to move past the fact that neither Sips nor Sjin was paying much attention to him. “Well, we’ve still got quite a few more presentations to get through. We’ll call you. Sjin, right?”

    “Yeah, um, yes!” Sjin squeaked, startling a bit at his name and beaming at Xephos and Honeydew. “Sjin, that’s right.” Xephos pronounced it “shin”, like the body part, but when Sjin said it, the already-unique name seemed much more...  _ exotic  _ to Sips, more unique. _ “S’jin.” _

    “Take care,” Honeydew offered, and Sips stood to shake Sjin’s hand.

    “I hope to see you around, then. Around the company. Because you’re, it’s great. For the company.” He very pointedly ignored Xephos’ small snicker from behind him, relishing in Sjin’s beaming grin. God, what was he saying? The kid was surely half his age. He wasn’t -- no. He certainly wasn’t going to bother entertaining those thoughts. Sips forced himself to turn back to the table and didn’t watch as Sjin packed up and hurried out the door.

    If he had, he may have noticed the way Sjin was watching him, even dropping some of his papers in his distraction. It was just because it had been so long, Sjin told himself, and he shouldn’t worry about misplaced affections. Or maybe -- maybe it was one of those nudges that life gave you sometimes, telling you that there was something important here. He’d get the position, be able to implement his project, he was sure of it. There was no way he was destined to stay in his architecture degree, keeping his head down, sticking with the same group of friends and living life normally. No, Sjin decided, normal definitely wasn’t for him, never had been.

    He pulled out his phone, hopping into the crew’s group chat.

_ Went great! :) _

>Did you get the thingie? -Lalna

>Congradulaaaaaaaations! -Nano

_ I won’t know for a while. _

    After a fer minutes, and a few more joking sentiments, Sjin looked up as he stepped into the elevator and nodded at another group of presenters who were filing out towards the boardroom. Finding himself alone in the elevator for the moment, he suddenly got a rush of courage, probably leftover adrenaline.

_ So sips is a lot more attractive irl _ he wrote with a grin.

>Oh my gooooood sjin -Nano

>so you’re on first names already -Lalna

>GAAAAAAYYYYYY -Trott

>so gay -Ross

>better than in the mags? -Smiffy

_ So much better + i think he was staring at me _

>Told you i know suits. -Smiffy

>so the orange monstrosity went over well? -Lalna

_ It’s not a monstrosity! _

>it’s a perfectly good tie! -Smiffy

>tbh you should have worn the blue -Nano

>it goes with your eyes -Nano

>Since when did anyone bother to look at Sjin’s eyes? -Lomadia

_ hey! _

    The elevator doors slid open and Sjin popped off a “ _ brb _ ” before pocketing the phone again, as it continued to buzz with his friends’ chatter. He felt something else in his pocket, and paused for a moment in the lobby, pulling it out and examining the business card.

_ Sips Underscore _

_ SipsCo Environmental Solutions _

    There was an address and phone number listed as well, the SipsCo headquarters he was currently blocking foot traffic in. For as much as people talked about America being the capitalism-centred country, who would have thought that a Canadian and two Englishmen  would have created two of the currently richest and most powerful global companies? For God’s sake, he had just walked into a room with three people more influential than most politicians from any country. He’d talked to them -- shook hands with one of them. Stuttered in front of them, oh god, he was sure, stared, blushed -- first impressions were always the most important. Like a wave, insecurity and guilt crashed over him, and he rushed out, anxious to catch a cab back to the hotel he was staying in. It would be a long next few days, waiting for the call -- if it ever came -- and here he was, in a huge, strange city, in a huge, strange country, far from the friends he called upon for support. All he had left to rely on was his own good luck and maybe, just maybe, some sort of greater destiny.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in the Spacemen universe, but non-canon.

    Sips had his helmet off in the city square, relishing his free breaths. A planet with just the right balance of oxygen was hard to come by, and he loved every moment of it. This one had lush, green jungles and forests, although large parts of it had been razed to make way for interplanetary trading ports. It was scenic, despite the bustle and shouts of the street vendors, and the refreshing oxygen was pumped full of foreign spices and foods, and probably quite a lot of body odor.

    But in a moment, an alarm blared through the otherwise ideal market square, loud and sharp, disrupting what little peace Sips was finding. He pressed his hands over his ears and a few nonhuman patrons looked at him and made comments, probably about how weak humans were. Honestly, he’d had enough of the whispers and downright insults -- humans had as much right to be here as any other species! Well, granted, their first impressions weren’t particularly favourable, but generally speaking, he liked to think himself better than the politicians who had shaped their first forays into inter-species relations.

    Before he could snap anything back he’d likely regret, though, there was another commotion and a figure dove through the crowd, jumping several feet above most patrons’ heads, and landing with a very heavy thump directly on top of Sips. They toppled to the floor, and Sips stared up in disbelief at the giant reptilian eyes meeting his gaze.

    “Get the hell off me,” Sips choked, trying to catch his breath again after the escapee had knocked it out of him. He sounded rather more breathy than commanding, which was unfortunate. Luckily, the alien scrambled off of him without a word and helped him to his feet -- unluckily, the creature’s hand stayed firmly planted on his arm, and it pulled a hand-held blaster out of its belt.

    “Oh,  _ shit _ ,” was the only thing Sips’ mind could say just then.

    “I have a hostage!” it screamed, and although the “universal” translator was shit at many things,  _ that _ was something it understood. Even if it hadn’t, it would have been obvious to anyone what was going on, as the crowd backed up and formed a large circle around the two. Guards, local police probably, came pushing through the mass of people, remaining out of arm’s reach.

    “Okay, dude, we can work this out,” Sips tried to say with a shaking voice, but it only pushed the blaster at him again, and he raised his unrestrained arm in surrender. “Uh, apparently not. Oh, come on,” he whined, mostly to himself, “can’t a dude go anywhere without getting captured nowadays? No? Just me? Fine then.” Talking it out, rationalizing it to himself, was a good method of taking himself out of the situation. No need to panic just yet -- oh, god, he could feel his breath coming faster. But, he told himself, after all, it certainly wasn’t the first barrel he’d stared down, and he sincerely hoped it wouldn’t be his last. ”You know what? It’s okay. It’s totally okay. It’s gotta be said, you sure can’t live your life without a little bit of… fun.”

    It was staring at him now, those huge eyes trained on him again, and it let out what seemed like a little bird noise, a high-pitched trill. “What the hell are you talking about?” it asked, seemingly calmer than before but definitely confused.

    “Okay, just put the blaster down!” a policeman shouted. “Just come quietly, all we’re trying to charge you for is theft, don’t make it any more!”

    “Theft?  _ Theft? _ Don’t you know who I am?” the alien screeched indignantly. “My name is  _ S’jin _ , you may have heard of me? I’ve got a ten-million bounty on my head for treason and grand theft and trafficking and murder and abso-fucking-lutely everything! Like hell I’m putting this blaster down!” He shook it again, tugging on Sips’ arm and dragging him closer. The alien’s claw (for that’s what it was, more than what could be called, in Sips’ standards, a hand) was scaly and dry, pulling at the close-fitting fabric of his spacesuit and his soft skin, nails digging in almost hard enough to hurt. It made that weird trill again, higher-pitched even than the last, and Sips flinched.

    “Listen, buddy,” Sips attempted again. “Okay, why don’t you stop waving that thing around and just get outta here? We’ll just get outta here, okay?”   
_     “We?” _ It redirected its attention at him rather than the guards, and Sips had to pause for a moment, realizing that for some insane reason, yes, that’s what he said. Dammit. “Yeah, okay.  _ We’ll _ get outta here.” Turning back to the guards, S’jin- if that really was his name- started walking backwards, glancing behind them as the crowd parted for the two. “My ship’s waiting. We just gotta get to the next building over,” he told them. It swung them both around and started dragging Sips behind it, causing Sips to have to sprint as well. There were more shouts from behind them, and Sips was terrified of three things -- of his captor, of the media painting him as a willing participant in the escape, and frankly, of death in general, whether from the police behind or the crazy fugitive of whom he now was in the possession of. Did that make four? He couldn’t even count right. 

    The pod was parked behind a large building, in what was definitely not a designated parking area, and apparently had been in the process of being towed when the alarm went off. The alien threw open the pod door and shoved him inside, warning him with a threat not to touch anything before shutting it again and walking around outside to unhitch it from the tow ship. Sips rubbed his arm, trying to regulate his breathing and slow his heavy-beating heart. It was almost unbearably warm in the pod, and Sips found himself sweating almost immediately. 

    The small, cramped environment made Sips begin to doubt very much as to whether there really was a bigger ship waiting for them as he had thought -- the one-room pod looked quite lived-in. But as he tried to remember what he'd been taught, scanning the room for anything useful, he realized that his captor -- the alien --  _ S’jin _ was much more dangerous than he thought. Weapons of every kind were stored against the walls, even some that he doubted Lalna, his friend and friendly local munitions expert, would recognize. Some of the blades even seemed still bloody. 

    "So you like it?" S’jin spoke from behind him."Classy, right?" 

    "Haven't seen a better establishment in years. How much a night?" he joked back instinctively.

    "However much you're willing to pay, " it replied, with a scrunch of its snout that could have been a wink had it been in the possession of eyelids.

    "We'll, yeah, we'll see about that," he tried to recover, remembering that it was his own careless words that had gotten him kidnapped in the first place. There was a pause, and he ventured a question. "So, uh, where are we going?”

    “Space.” S’jin strode to the front of the pod, and Sips followed, stepping carefully over piles of junk accruing in the corners and spilling out into the room. It slid into the pilot’s chair, flicking a few levers and strapping itself in. “Better hold on tight, it’s going to be a wild ride.”

    “My favorite kind,” Sips laughed uneasily, and sat in the passenger seat next to him, pulling the straps of the harness across himself. He really was trapped now, no way out. 

    What the hell had he just gotten himself into?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two smaller ones - hikers and one in which Sips is famous.

    Sjin breathed out, gently, taking in the landscape. The view from the mountain- he’d call it breathtaking, if it weren’t such a cliche. Well, literally, it was breathtaking, and Sjin rearranged his oxygen supply, making sure everything was in place. Blues and greens and greys and whites reached in broad brushstrokes across the landscape, clouds obscuring bits of the crystal clear picture. Off in the distance, gracing the edge of the horizon, were tiny dots of cities and the endless expanse of water. He was interrupted from his reverie by a tug on his line, Sips securing them in place before coming up behind him.

    “Wow.”

    “Yeah,” Sjin agreed. Then, “Spot me,” he instructed, as he stepped closer to the edge and raised his camera.

    “Better take that one again, I think someone blinked,” Sips joked, and Sjin let laughter bubble up out of him. They’d made it, all the way, with all their equipment, and relatively unscathed. He moved to take another picture, and felt Sips’ arms wrap around him, nestling into the back of his head.

    “Now the only problem,” Sips informed him, “is getting down.”

~~~

    “We’re going to the concert,” Sjin declared to the squad, “if I have to sneak us in.”

    Xephos quirked an eyebrow and propped himself up on one elbow from where he was lying on Sjin’s bed, watching Sjin casually style his hair in front of the mirror. “ _ You’re _ going to get us into a SipsCo concert.  _ That’s _ going to happen.”

    Sjin frowned at him in the mirror. “I don’t appreciate your sarcasm.”

    “So what if he could?” Nano chirped, stepping over the piles of clothes in the room towards where the rest of them were sitting. “I mean, it’s worth a shot, right? He did already get ahold of the set list.”

    “Which I’m still rather sceptical about,” Xephos laughed. “It’s only a list of songs. Could be fake.”

    “See, the thing about that whole plan is,” Honeydew laughed, leaning his head against Xephos, “that one, we can’t pass for eighteen, and two, none of us have the cash. And three, this is  _ Sjin _ we’re talking about here.”

    “Hold on now,” Lalna butted in, looking up from his phone. “Are you quite possibly suggesting that Sjin has some less-than-reputable sources? Because you can’t  _ possibly _ be suggesting that. Sjin is the nicest, most trustworthy guy I know.” He kept a straight face for only a few moments, until Nano finally broke, falling onto the bed with a  _ thwump _ . Honeydew started cackling as well, pounding the bed with his fist.

    Sjin turned and pouted at them. “Oh, come  _ on _ , Xeph. You’re acting like you wouldn’t give anything to hear that fabulous keytar in person.” 

    Nano jumped up off the bed and posed in front of the life-sized SipsCo poster Sjin had gotten for his seventeenth birthday. In it, Sips was sitting on a leather couch, arms spread across the back of the couch, his legs slightly spread, and a devious grin on his face.  _ SipsCo’s here to rock your world, _ it declared, above a line that read  _ SipsCo World Tour _ , and a very long list of town names.  _ Bristol, July 27  _ was circled several times in red marker.

    “Plus,” Lalna pointed out, holding up his phone and pulling a Snapchat grimace for a moment, “that set list says he’s going to play  _ Big Girl _ . Even if it’s only for a little bit before we get caught, it’s still worth a try.”

    Sjin huffed, crossing his arms. “Thank you, Lalna, for being the only one with me on this.” “If we go to jail, I’m blaming all of you.” 

    Xephos cracked a smile. “I still can’t believe he’s dropping by Bristol. Why not London?”

    “London’s on there too,” Sjin pointed out.

    Nano grinned from ear to ear. “Face it, Xeph, you’re so lowkey pumped for this. We all know it. You can’t hide your thirst for the one and only Sips Underscore.”

    “He’s mine, though,” Sjin declared, and they were about to delve back into their old play arguments when several familiar keytar notes rang out of Lalna’s phone speakers.

    Grabbing a hairbrush, Sjin put one hand on his hip and started singing. “You’re a big girl, ‘cause you’ve eaten too much, and your pants don’t fit around your waist!”

    “You just eat pie, always really hungry, you just eat pie, always really hungry!” Nano chimed in, and with another few lines, they were all singing along to lyrics they knew by heart, swept up in the excitement of summer and senior year approaching and their final years of freedom.


	4. Chapter 4

    "It's getting kinda late," Sips noted, as they turned another page on the sheet music. "D'you wanna head home?"

    "Nah," Sjin muttered, sinking back in the couch. "Play what we have for me."

    Sips readjusted his acoustic guitar on his lap, finding the chords he needed with clever fingers. As he strummed, Sjin added remarks here and there. "That should be a tone change," "Shit, we fucked up on that one, make that longer," "And that's where I go -- 'ah-ah-ah-ah-ah...'" "Wow, that sounds really good, actually," "You're, um, really good at that."

    Unconsciously, Sjin leaned in closer to Sips, watching his fingers. His eyelids were drooping, and he knew in the back of his mind that if he fell asleep now he'd have raccoon eyes from his makeup in the morning. But it didn't really seem like a problem, as he discovered that Sips' broad shoulder made a nice pillow. It was too hunched, though, a bit uncomfortable, so Sjin reached up and pulled at Sips' arm until he stopped playing and relaxed it.

    "We should probably head home, I don't know how long Xephos' going to stay out and, and it looks like we're both getting tired."

    "I'm not tired," Sjin muttered, breathing in the scent of being so close to Sips' neck. It was supposed to be just a professional relationship, it was just a professional relationship, he didn't care how soft Sips was, or about his smooth skin, or that Sips' jeans were riding a bit low on his hips and --

    Sips reached up and smoothed Sjin's hair down, and Sjin didn't care anymore.

    Sjin looked up at Sips from his pillow on Sips' shoulder.

    "Hi," he mumbled sleepily. God, he didn't want to be sleepy right now. He had to be wide awake. There was a super-cute guy staring down at him with a brain-melting smile -- that was Sjin's job, dammit.

    "Hi." Sips smiled at him again, all warm and soft, and rested his head on Sjin's. Sure, it wasn't a kiss, but it felt like one.

~~~

    Sips was trying to fight off a looming headache as he attempted to fight off his manager. Xephos had had so much coffee that it should have spilled right out of the lanky man’s thin frame, and he was more on edge than usual.

    “It’s just- I dunno, I don’t like it,” Sips sighed at him, slouching further into his armchair.

    “Well, what the hell am I supposed to do about it? The producer is fucking fuming at me, and I have to sit here and- and play scapegoat!”

    “I’m just saying, I don’t want to work with him.”

    “Why the fuck not?” Xephos stormed across the ground-floor room and slammed open the icebox in the bar. “We’ve got the paperwork all ready to go. Hell, he’s even on the same label, so I don’t even have to try arguing with _his_ manager, considering I already _am._ ” He took out a bottle of gin, appeared to contemplate pouring it into his coffee mug for a moment, then simply tipped it into his mouth.

    “He’s- I don’t know. He’s-”

    “A diva? I know, I know. Thinks he can rule the world. I mean, hell, he probably can, considering- well, you know.”

    “No, I don’t know, Xephos, why don’t you enlighten me?” Sips’s sass slipped out, and Xephos turned tired eyes on him.

    “You know, his audience. Effeminate boys.”

    “His audience is effeminate boys?”

    “No- Sips.” Xephos cracked a smile, like he was trying to force his overly-sculpted face to comply. “I’m sorry, we’re going to do this collaboration, like it or not.”


	5. Chapter 5

    “Sykeskar, how are you feeling this morning?”

    “Still nightmares,” Sykeskar admitted to his therapist, crossing and uncrossing his legs. He glanced out the window of her office, watching as people walked past the darkened glass, not knowing who or what lay inside.

    “Has the medicine been helping at all?” she asked, trying to gain more information from his shy statements. Even after a year, Sykeskar was still a bit intimidated by Doctor Lomadia. 

    Sykeskar considered his words carefully. “I think I had a dream the other night that wasn’t so bad,” he admitted. “Some… some guy?” He scratched the back of his neck and laughed. “Not a sexual dream, no, just… a lot of love, I think.”

    “Can you remember any details? Take as much time as you need.” Doctor Lomadia crossed her legs and held her pen at the ready.

    “Well… he had, like, pale skin, not  _ white _ but more… grey? Actually literally light grey skin. Heck, maybe he was a vampire. A sexy vampire.” He giggled, snorted, and covered his mouth with one hand. “Ah, kind of bad hair, some sort of bowl cut? But the ah, the most important thing was what he was saying.” Sykeskar paused to think, and there was a moment of silence in the room. “I think… I don’t know if I can remember specific words,” he hummed. “But… I think he said he loved me. He called me -- he called me, ah, ‘Sjin’? I think? And it was a name I’d heard before, but it’s such a weird name, I don’t know where I could have heard it.” Sykeskar stopped to take a few deep breaths. “And he said he loved me, and he had to find me. Which was a little creepy. Can I have more medicine? I… I don’t know if I want that again. I woke up crying.”

    Lomadia’s heart dropped into her stomach as she recalled the conversation she had had with one of her patients on his first visit.  _ “I can see this guy, when I dream, every time,” _ he’d confessed.  _ “He’s terrified and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. And then… and then they drag me away, and he’s gone, and I’m fucking crying.” _

_     “How long has this been happening?” _

_     “All my life.” _

    Yesterday, about halfway through their meeting, the man had dropped a bomb: he thought he’d figured out how to communicate with the other man in his dream.  _ “He was so clear, I could see his eyes and his -- this weird fucking beard? But I knew that like, I knew that something in me loved -- loves him. Am I -- like, I’m like, I’m, am I in love with a dream? I talked to him, I swear, I don’t know his name but I called him something -- Sjin? I think I called him Sjin…” _

    Lomadia was startled out of her memories by Sykeskar standing next to her chair, looking very concerned. “Ehm, Lomadia, are you okay? I don’t -- how professional is it to cry during therapy? I mean, I thought  _ I _ was the one who was supposed to be crying!”

 

    Sykeskar walked out of the office half-an-hour later staring at the ground. A short, broad man walked past him towards the hall leading to the offices, and they bumped into each other. Sykeskar only mumbled a “sorry,” but the other man stopped, and turned, watching Sykeskar as he walked across the tiny waiting room. He stood and stared until Sykeskar had left the building entirely, a nagging feeling in the back of his mind and the bottom of his gut telling him to run and catch the strange thin man. 

    The short man pushed open the door to Lomadia’s office tentatively, and she beamed at him.

    “‘Morning, Sips! Go ahead and come sit down, I’m just finishing up the last of this paperwork here…”


End file.
